


Saving the World: A Side Job

by magsforya



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Superhero Darren, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magsforya/pseuds/magsforya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren spends his days working in an office and crushing on his deskmate, Chris. He spends his nights gallivanting through the streets of Chicago and saving lives. No, really. He's a superhero. Saving peoples' lives is sort of what he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I really like this story and what it could lead to. Right now I'm considering it complete, but I believe I will turn it into a bigger story/verse.
> 
> Reblog it on [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/108763250769/saving-the-world-a-side-job)

                It’s not boring. It’s actually quite fun. If anyone were to ask him growing up if he thought he’d ever end up in an office, he’d laugh out loud. When his friends found out, they looked at him curiously and told him, “It’ll only be for a little bit. You’ll find something better.”

                Darren didn’t want to find anything better. He _liked_ his job.

                His parents were worried. They thought he was settling and sent Chuck to talk with him.

                “But you love acting,” Chuck said. “You love music.”

                “And I still do,” Darren replied. “I just like this, too.”

                Three years later and Darren _still_ loves his job. Sure, it’s in an office. And yes, there’s little to no privacy sitting in a deconstructed cubicle. But it’s _fun_. And it’s not nearly as uptight as everyone thinks it is. He can show up to work most days in sweatpants if he wants. He listens to music at his desk. He gets amazing benefits, a good salary, his coworkers are awesome, and he’s allowed to work from home if he wants.

                It may not be theatre and it may not be music, but Darren still moonlights as a musician. He had to give up acting though. It was one of the toughest decisions he ever had to make. But in the end it didn’t work out for him. When you do theatre you have to be present. You have to show up to rehearsals and practice your lines at home. You have to commit to months of practicing and then even more months of actually putting the play on for the public. Darren couldn’t do that. He couldn’t make that commitment.

                Not when he has a bigger commitment. Not when he has to save the world.

                Okay, he’s being a little conceited. He doesn’t have to save the world. But he does have to save Chicago. Or at least, he’s got to try.

                When your side job and hobby involves dressing in spandex and wearing a mask, committing to a full year at the local playhouse is damn near impossible.

                So he took the office job. He didn’t even have to apply. It was basically handed to him. His boss is a retired superhero and knows what Darren needs. He understands that sometimes Darren has to ditch out of work early. He knows that on particularly difficult missions, Darren might be tied up for a few days. He knows that sometimes Darren just needs to talk and vent. He’s the one who helped Darren find the right doctors and surgeons—the ones that know how to keep a secret. He’s the one that makes sure Darren gets enough rest and eats enough food. He brought Darren to a super-secret lair (okay, it was a gym) and pushed Darren to train and practice and hone his superpowers.

                He’s the one that gives Darren far more than two weeks vacation time. Darren could probably spend three full months fighting crime and Daryl would still pay him his full salary.

                So yeah, he misses theatre. But he has a much better deal here.

                He also has a really hot coworker. That might be his biggest problem, actually.

* * *

 

                “Long time no see, partner.”

                Darren sits down at his desk and looks over at Chris. He smiles brightly.

                “Yeah,” Darren replies, smoothing his tie down. He doesn’t have to get dressed up for work, but when you have a really hot desk mate that sits across from you, it’s kind of hard to resist the tight khakis that Darren knows accentuate his ass. “I had a conference in Dallas.”

                He didn’t have a conference in Dallas.

                “It seems strange that you’re the only one here who gets sent on these conferences,” Chris smiles back.

                If Darren didn’t have an air tight alibi, he’d be worried. But he knows Chris is joking. While everyone in the office does have to attend a few meetings and/or conferences during the year, Darren is the person that seems to be at one every other week. But he’s so sociable and he closes more deals than most people in the office (despite the fact that he probably works half the time they do. Because, you know, HE’S A SUPERHERO) that he knows no one is actually suspicious. Jealous, yes. Darren has several times been sent abroad for days or weeks at a time for work.

                Some of those times have been covers for when he was off doing superhero stuff. But he really has been sent to Europe and the UK several times for work. He even once went to Singapore.

                “What can I say,” Darren grins. “Top Salesperson of the Year.”

                Chris laughs loudly. “We don’t even work in sales, Darren,” he replies, shaking his head and still smiling.

                “Sales schmales,” Darren shrugs. “I’m good at what I do.”

                “Good enough to take a two week business trip to Dallas?” Chris asks.

                “Obviously,” Darren says, leaning back in his chair.

                “All I want is a weekend in Germany. Think we can get Daryl to make some connections there?”

                “I’ll see what I can do,” Darren says.

                “You _are_ the golden child,” Chris responds.

                That’s true, too. Darren sort of _is_ the golden child at the office. He feels like more people should hate him. He skips work several times a month, he sometimes shows up in sweatpants, he often comes in with bruises and no explanations as to how he got them, he can be loud, brash, and annoying, and the boss very obviously favors him.

                But for some reason people don’t care. Darren assumes it’s because Daryl is really awesome and treats everyone fairly. Still, he knows that some people shake their heads at him. Hell, Darren would do that, too! He knows the situation can be annoying. But he can’t be bothered to care. In the end he works more than any of these people. He literally just spent two weeks kicking the shit out of bad guys and taking a stab wound.

                It was in his stomach. It missed any major organ by less than an inch. He probably shouldn’t be back at work, but he popped some extra strength, prescription ibuprofen and headed in anyway. He does have work to do, after all.

                Right when Darren goes to deepen the conversation with Chris and maybe ask him if he wants to grab a drink after work, Daryl shows up.

                “Mind if we chat for a second?” Daryl asks.

                Chris immediately looks back to his computer and tries to pretend that he and Darren weren’t just talking. Darren’s a bit bummed out about that. Not that Chris is trying to be a model employee, but that Daryl showed up in the first place.

                “Of course, sir,” Darren replies, standing up. He follows Daryl around the corner and into his office.

                The great thing about Daryl’s office is that it’s the only office in building that is completely enclosed. There are no glass windows looking out into the floor, no way for workers to look in on what’s happening in the boss’s office, and no way for Daryl to spy on his workers. Most CEOs wouldn’t like that, but for Daryl it’s sort of essential.

                When Darren walks in, Daryl closes the door.

                “What the _fuck_ were you thinking?!” Daryl almost screams.

                Another thing about Daryl’s office…it’s soundproofed. And bullet proof. No one knows that, though, except Darren. He actually found that one out the hard way.

                “What do you mean?” Darren asks, stepping backwards into the wall. Daryl’s an intimidating guy when he wants to be.

                “I mean,” Daryl says, voice low and harsh, “what the _fuck_ were you thinking?! You think you can just go off gallivanting in the fucking Catskills fighting evil and stopping crime?!”

                For as sweet and mild mannered as Daryl normally is, he can definitely pull off the ‘angry black man’ stereotype. He is an ex-superhero, after all. He’s built like a fire hydrant, he’s over six feet tall, and although he’s in his early fifties he has more muscles than Darren will ever hope to get. Daryl puts Hulk Hogan to shame.

                “I wasn’t ‘off gallivanting,’” Darren defends. “I was taking care of business.”

                “No,” Daryl says harshly. “You fucked up big time, Darren.”

                “Wha—“ Darren begins to say.

                “You do not go off after Madman Mateo without telling me. You do not go off after Madman Mateo without training, without bringing a special ops crew, or without devising a plan.”

                Every point Daryl makes is highlighted by him taking a step closer to Darren and pointing his finger at Darren’s chest.

                “You could have seriously hurt people, Darren. _You_ could have seriously gotten hurt.” By this last point Daryl is inches from Darren, towering over him with his finger prodding Darren’s chest.

                Darren pales and his right hand immediately goes to his stomach.

                Daryl looks at Darren’s blanched face, then looks down at Darren’s hand covering his stomach. He then looks back at Darren’s face, then again at his stomach. Darren feels like it takes forever before Daryl finally connects everything. He wishes he were able to control his body right now, because if he could he would take his hand off his stab wound and try to play it cool.

                “No,” Daryl whispers.

                He pushes Darren’s hand away and rucks up Darren’s shirt, untucking it from Darren’s pants. He rips open the button up, and Darren watches as the bottom buttons go flying.

                “It’s not as bad as it looks!” Darren’s quick to defend.

                Daryl spends a few moments slack jawed staring at Darren’s stomach.

                There’s a gnarly red gash that’s stitched up with rudimentary skill. Daryl lightly skims his hand over it. It’s tender to the touch, and Darren tries not to wince.

                “What happened?” Daryl asks quickly.

                “It wasn’t Mateo,” Darren hastily replies. “I swear it wasn’t Mateo. Just one of his henchman. Caught me while I wasn’t looking. I sewed it up myself and went to Dr. Barnes last night. He gave me some pain pills and some antibiotics and said to come back in a few days.”

                Daryl puts his hand on Darren’s shoulder and squeezes. It isn’t a very comforting touch. It hurts.

                “Barnes said I did a god job sewing it up,” Darren tries.

                “I don’t want to hear it,” Daryl says, tight lipped as he turns away from Darren and begins pacing the room.

                There’s a few moments of silence, and Darren is still against the wall with the bottom half of his shirt unbuttoned.

                “I can’t believe you fucking did this. Do you know what I had to do?! You leave without telling anyone—leaving me a fucking _TEXT MESSAGE_ —and go off to fight your arch nemesis without bringing any backup! _DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA THE STRINGS I HAD TO PULL TO COVER FOR YOU?!_ No, Darren! You don’t. Because you never fucking think.”

                “I had a lead! I knew what I—“

                “No you didn’t, Darren! You did not know what you were doing!” Daryl stops pacing and looks at Darren. “You know what,” he says, strangely calm. “I can’t do this. Pack your shit up and go home. It’s Thursday. Take a long weekend to recover. Go back to Barnes for a checkup. And don’t fucking go after Madman Mateo without telling me.”

                Darren swallows and tries to stop the shame from crawling into his head. “Yeah. Okay,” he says quietly.

                He shoves his shirt into his pants to try and maintain some semblance of uniformity, and leaves the office. He heads to his desk and grabs his satchel and his work things and begins packing up.

                “Going home?” Chris asks.

                Startled, Darren looks up.

                “Uh, yeah,” he says. “I don’t feel very well.”

                “Oh,” Chris replies. “Well, uhm. Feel better.”

                “Thanks,” Darren says, putting his satchel over his shoulder. “See you Monday.”

                He doesn’t wait for a response, just jets towards the door. He runs down the stairs instead of taking the elevator, even though it hurts his stitches to do so.

                It’s not until he gets home that he realizes that tomorrow—Friday—is the day that the whole office is going out to karaoke together.

                _Guess I won’t be going to that_ , Darren thinks.

                It’s a shame. He really loves the way his and Chris’ voice sounds together.

                He lays on his couch and turns the TV on and pops a Vicodin. He thinks about how boring it will be spending the weekend alone in his dingy apartment while all his coworkers go out and have fun and all of his friends hang out together and perform in plays and make movies.

It’s not always glamorous and it’s not always fun, but sometimes this is just part of being a superhero.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/110286827039/saving-the-world-a-side-job-part-ii)

                The thing about Daryl is that he’s basically in charge of Darren. Or at least, that’s how everyone feels. Daryl is basically everything wrapped into one. He’s like a father to Darren, like an uncle and a brother. He’s a mentor, a boss, a co-worker, and a friend. He’s a trainer, a coach, a teammate, and an adoring fan.

                So when Darren messes up and gets Daryl upset with him, he feels an overwhelming amount of guilt and pressure falling on top of him making it hard to breathe. If he feels like he’s upset or disappointed Daryl, he becomes entirely unsure of what to do. He begins to question everything.

                _Should I go out tonight? Should I save people? If I get in trouble can I call him for help? If I get hurt am I still allowed to use all the doctors he introduced me to? Can I go to the secret gym and exercise and practice with my powers? Do I still have his support or am I all alone again?_

                Pressure Darren can deal with. It’s part of the superhero job description. He works amazingly well under pressure, he can make decisions in a split second and can act without thinking if necessary. Pressure is what Darren thrives for. It’s what he chases after.

                It’s the guilt that he can’t handle. But he can’t blame Daryl for that. Because in all the ways that Darren looks up to Daryl—well, it works both ways.

                Darren is more than just a project for Daryl. He’s like a son. And Darren knows that. Their relationship has far exceeded that of a mentor and mentee. Darren met Daryl when he was at his most vulnerable.

* * *

 

                This whole _superhero thing_ , as Darren often refers to it as, happened when Darren was twenty-three and trying to make it in acting.

                His agent sent in a headshot and a short audition tape to a theater director in New York City. Darren ended up getting a job as an understudy and swing on an off-Broadway play. What he honestly thought was going to be his big break actually ended up being his big break. Just in a way he wasn’t at all expecting.

                When one of the actors got pneumonia and Darren stepped up to the plate, it was his dream come true. It didn’t last long, though. During his second week of performances the theatre experienced a small electrical fire that led to the power going out. One of the iron bars used to hold up the set ended up collapsing on Darren right when the electrical fire began, and when things began malfunctioning and people began running for the exits, Darren was stuck under a metal lattice structure and fed enough electricity to fry most people in a matter of seconds.

                Not Darren, though. Turns out being a superhero is in his genes, and that electric current was enough to awaken his full powers.

                At least, that’s what Daryl and all the doctors he knows say. They’ve done studies and ran tests and have come to the conclusion that super powers are all in the DNA.

                So yeah, Darren _would_ become a superhero during a musical theatre accident. He laughs about it a lot.

                He was taken out of the show even though he fully recovered, because everyone thought that it was impossible for him to fully recover in under two weeks. So when he got back to Chicago he used his newly realized super powers to help people. He’d stay awake all night and wear all black clothing and hats and stalk around on top of building and in alleyways. He’d make sure people got home from the bars okay, that their cars started fine.

                He beat up a few muggers and got a few drug dealers arrested. After a while it wasn’t very fulfilling, and Darren began chasing the thrill. He started being bolder in his approach. He started getting more physical. And he started acting on instinct instead of surveying the situation and making a plan and always knowing where an out is.

                So when he saw a bunch of bigger guys following a girl out of a bar, Darren went after them. He had all these valiant thoughts of getting the guys arrested and saving the girl.

                Instead he ended up passed out in an alley with the shit beat out of him and a bullet dangerously close to his liver.

                And that’s how he met Daryl. When he woke up in a lot of pain and in a strange room, Daryl’s was the first face he saw.

* * *

 

                Darren spends the weekend after getting stabbed and kicked out of the office at home relaxing. Though it’s not very comfortable. He’s itching to go places and see people and do things. It’s the first weekend in a long time where he’s completely out of commission.

                He goes back to Dr. Barnes and gets another checkup and is put on strict orders not to do anything stupid lest he wants to tear out his stitches, get an infection, and end up losing some organs. He’s not sure how true that last part is, but from Barnes’ face, Darren can tell that the threats are serious.

                So he lays low and promises Barnes at least one month of zero superhero activity.

                “And for the love of god, Darren. Go slowly when you get back into it. Don’t jump in head first. Train for a bit.”

                “I promise,” Darren replies.

                And he means it, even if he doesn’t want to. Even if all he wants to do is get right back to business and get back at Madman Mateo and his stupid henchman who nearly succeeded in disemboweling him.

                He texts a few friends, but they’re all busy. The small group of college friends that he moved out to Chicago with post-graduation all work. Mostly in theatre, too, so they train and practice all day and then either put shows on at night or work at bars and restaurants. The few acquaintances he made on his own have since left for LA or NYC, or they just happen to be busy that weekend.

                Normally Darren is the one apologetically turning everyone down. It feels strange to be on the other side of it. It leaves him off keel and eating from take out boxes all weekend. He wants to go for a run or train, but he promised Barnes that he wouldn’t.

                He also wants to talk to Daryl. He spends all Saturday pacing the floor of his living room and contemplating the pros and cons of showing up at the gym or at Daryl’s house and talking to him. In the end he decides that the best course of action is to prepare a speech to deliver to Daryl in his office first thing Monday morning.

                It’s filled with _I’m sorry’s_ and _I’m so stupid’s_ , with a few _I’ll never do it again’s_ just to be safe.

* * *

 

                “So you missed quite the show this weekend,” Chris says right as Darren sits down. He tries not to grimace when he feels his stitches pull a little. It doesn’t hurt per se. After nearly two years of professional superheroeing, Darren has a pretty high pain threshold.

                “Yeah? How so?” Darren smiles, looking at Chris across the table.

                They sit diagonally from each other, which makes it impossible to ever knock legs or play footsie. Darren is both simultaneously happy and sad about this.

                “A whole bunch of us went up on stage and drunkenly sang the YMCA. Even Cap,” Chris replies, affectionately referring to Daryl. The office occasionally likes to ruffle his feathers by calling him Captain.

                “I’m sorry I missed it,” Darren replies genuinely, leaning his head on his hand. “Wow any talent agents with any stunning solos?”

                “No. I wanted to do a duet, but unfortunately there was no one there who measured up to my strict level of vocal aptitude.”

                “Now that’s a shame,” Darren says. “Withholding your talent is a major crime.”

                “Well, had you not gotten mysteriously ill,” Chris says, pointedly staring at Darren, “then I wouldn’t have had to withhold anything.”

                Darren puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright. Point taken. Though I really was sick.”

                “So it had nothing to do with that secret talk you and Daryl had on Thursday before you left?” Chris whispers, rolling his chair so he’s directly across from Darren.

                Darren is honestly surprised that Chris even remembers that. He likes to think that he goes pretty much under the radar at the office, even though he knows that’s not necessarily true.

                “Uh, no,” he says. “Daryl was just upset with me. I uh, got really sick at the Dallas conference and he was mad that I came into work instead of taking off.” Darren internally heaves a sigh of relief, happy that he is able to come up with a quick, efficient, and believable lie.

                Chris looks at him skeptically. “He called you into your office to tell you to go home?”

                “Yeah,” Darren replies nonchalantly. “Well, that and he wanted to know how the conference went. I talked to some big name CEOs, so he just wanted the rundown.”

                “Oh,” Chris says, nodding. And Darren can tell that he cinched the lie. “So, did the conference go well?”

                “Absolutely,” Darren says, smiling.

                “And you’re feeling better?”

                “Back to new!”

                “Awesome,” Chris says, rolling back to his part of the desk. “Well, next time we all go out, you better be there.” Chris winks.

                Chris winks and Darren stares and his jaw drops and he _really_ wishes he had more control over his body. He really wishes he could have been at karaoke, and he really wishes that he could just hang out with Chris alone and out of the office with no distractions.

                And that’s when Darren suddenly realizes…

                “Hey! Chris!” He says, far louder than he has to. Chris looks up from his computer, and Darren tries not to melt into a puddle of goo after seeing that Chris put glasses on. “Uh, wanna go grab lunch today? Out of the office.”

                “Sure,” Chris replies. “One?”

                “Huh?” Darren asks.

                “One o’clock sound good?” Chris smiles.

                “Yeah. One o’clock.”

                Chris nods and gets back to work. Darren takes a few seconds to compose himself as stealthily as possible before he starts working.

                He _did_ promise Barnes a full month with absolutely no superheroes activity. So really, there’s no better time than the present to woo the charming, witty, humorous, and gorgeous boy who works across from him.

                But first, of course, he has to apologize to Daryl.

* * *

 

                After setting everything up at his desk, Darren stands up and heads to Daryl’s office, ringing a tiny buzzer that’s next to his door.

                (Knocking doesn’t really work well, since the entire office is made of concrete and completely soundproofed).

                When the light on the buzzer turns green, Darren knows he’s allowed to enter.

                “I was expecting you,” Daryl says.

                This is, after all, not the first time that Darren’s fucked up and came back to apologize (i.e. grovel).

                “Daryl,” he says, voice low and slow. “I am _so_ sorry.”

                “Can it,” Daryl says. “I know the drill. I know the speech. Apology accepted. But don’t do that again, you hear?”

                Darren nods fervently.

                “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Daryl continues. “This time it was a stab wound. Next time it could be a gun or superpowers. If Mateo were there he could have used his lasers, Darren.” Daryl’s voice is strained.

                “I know,” Darren says softly, looking at his hands. He can’t look at Daryl. He’s not ready to see the disappointment on his face.

                “I know you want to save the world,” Daryl says. “But you can’t.”

                And yeah, Darren knows that all too well. It’s something he’s been struggling with for a while.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/110286827039/saving-the-world-a-side-job-part-ii)
> 
> What's that down there? It's...it's strange. It's an empty, white box. HUH. I wonder what it's used for. If you know how it works, then please give it a try. It's emptiness is scaring me.


	3. Chapter 3

                Hanging out with Chris is _fun_. There’s the added bonus that Chris takes Darren’s mind off of not being able to save people and fight crime. But in general, Chris is _fun_.

                Darren doesn’t really have fun a lot. At least not in the generally accepted sense of the word.

                He puts on a spandex suit and runs around under the cloak of darkness and sometimes sets traps so he can watch bad guys and villains trip or fall or make fools of themselves. That’s fun.

                But he doesn’t get to play games anymore. He doesn’t get to hang out with regular people often and have fun and tell jokes and socialize. He used to love to socialize. He still does, he just so rarely has the opportunity to.

                This month of rest and rehabilitation is a blessing in disguise, because for the first time since Chris started working at the company a year ago, Darren is finally able to _hang out_ with him.

                And Chris…Chris is _fun_.

                Darren already knew that, though, from the few times the company does karaoke at a local bar. Chris drinks mixed drinks and gets loose and rosy cheeked and sings songs onstage. Anytime Darren would congratulate him and fawn over his voice Chris would brush it off and laugh.

                Their first duet together at the bar was ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody,’ and from that night on, their coworkers made sure that whenever they all went out, Chris and Darren sang something together.

                It was the only time when Darren could really hang out with Chris. He always wanted to invite Chris out to dinner or take him to a show, but every time he’d muster up the courage something would get in the way. He’d get called out of town. His exercise regime would get upped and he’d have to spend more time training. Chris would be dating someone else…

                But no. Now that Darren has this month of respite, he plans on taking full advantage of it.

                This time Operation: Woo Chris Colfer is in full effect.

* * *

 

                “So I was thinking,” Chris says one morning. It’s two weeks into Darren’s four week furlough, and Darren has learned more about Chris the past few days than he has in a year. It’s pretty fucking awesome.

                “Always a dangerous thing,” Darren smiles, putting his pen down so he can give Chris his full attention.

                “There’s this really great ramen bar my friends always talk about and I haven’t had a chance to go yet. You around tonight?”

                “Yeah,” Darren replies, trying to keep his excitement at bay. “Definitely. That sounds amazing.”

                “Awesome. Probably around seven. I’ll text you though.”

                “Perfect,” Darren says. “You still going to the gym after work?”

                “Yeah,” Chris says. “I want to get a run in. I haven’t had much time to exercise recently since a certain _someone_ has been monopolizing my time.”

                Darren grins and tries hard to stop himself from standing up and leaning across the table and moving the piece of hair that fell in Chris’ face. They’re not at that point in their friendship yet.

                “I told you,” Darren grins instead, “that I could take you to the gym and help you work out!”

                Chris rolls his eyes.

                The other day Darren gave Chris a tiny glimpse into his workout routine. Chris was talking about how he likes to run and lift weights, and Darren let it spill that he’s sort of a workout nut. Chris decided that he never wants to go to the gym with Darren for fear of being shown up.

                “Yeah yeah. Anyway, tonight. Around seven. I’ll text.”

                Chris turns back to his company computer and runs a hand through his hair, and Darren stands up and walks over to Daryl’s office so he can attend to some important business. The door is open so he just walks in before closing it.

                “So I have to cancel tonight,” he says.

                “What? Why?”

                “I made plans,” Darren responds, plopping down in a chair across from Daryl.

                “Why would you make plans during our strategies meeting?” Daryl asks, leaning on the desk in front of him.

                “Because Chris may or may not have asked me out on a date and I don’t have the willpower to say no.”

                “Darren,” Daryl gets serious, “you have to say no.”

                “What? Why?!” Darren asks, leaning forward on the desk, his eyes comically wide.

                “Because you can’t date.”

                “Why can’t I date?” Darren pushes.

                Daryl sighs. “We’ve talked about this.”

                “I’ll be careful,” Darren promises. “He won’t find out.”

                “It’s not just that,” Daryl says. “It’s the fact that you have so much on your plate already that adding a relationship right now is the last thing you want.”

                “Uh, I’m actually pretty sure that adding a relationship is the first thing I want,” Darren deadpans. “Because I really like Chris.

                “I know you do. But in two weeks you begin training again. You have to get back in shape—“

                “Woah! I didn’t lose my shape!” Darren interjects. He may not have been able to work out and he may have been indulging in far too much fatty foods with Chris, but he’s made sure to stay in decent shape and go on light runs. His stab wound doesn’t even hurt anymore, it’s more uncomfortable than anything else.

                “Darren,” Daryl sighs, running his hand over his face. “It’s not…It’s not just keeping this a secret, okay? It’s not about protecting Chris from the bad guys, it’s about protecting him from _you_.”

                “Do you think I’d hurt him?” Darren asks, voice rising a bit. If there’s one thing that Darren takes seriously it’s the safety of others. He will put himself in harm’s way if it means saving an innocent person. He may be a superhero, but that doesn’t equate to being a steroid junkie with a temper that can’t be tamed.

                Daryl takes a deep breath and looks directly at Darren.

                “What’s going to happen when you go away for a week? What are you going to tell him? How are you going to explain to him, every night, when you walk out the door to patrol the streets—what are you gonna say?” Daryl takes a deep breath and doesn’t even blink. “When you miss birthdays and holidays, when you come home with a stab wound and cuts and bruises. Does he deserve that? To be in a relationship with someone who has an entire life hidden away? Who keeps secrets and closes himself off?”

                Darren swallows thickly. It’s not something he’s ever thought about. He always assumed that one day he would get married and have kids. He never thought about how his superhero persona would fit into that.

                He knows that Daryl had a family and a marriage and a kid. He knows that Daryl isn’t involved in their lives. He doesn’t know the how or the what or the why, but he knows that Daryl hasn’t seen his daughter in almost fifteen years.

                “So I’m what, just supposed to live hermitically until I die?”

                “There’s no easy answer, Darren,” Daryl replies, shrugging his shoulders.

                Darren sits there for a few seconds, making sure his breathing evens out before he leaves and heads back to his desk.

                When he gets home that night he showers. It’s not because he’s dirty. It’s because he has a lot on his mind and he just needs to do something at the same time as he does nothing. So he showers and pretends he’s being productive while he stands under the shower head and lets the hot water cascade down him. He tries not to think about anything and he focuses on his breathing and he does some singing exercises and tries not to cry when he realizes how long it’s been since he’s sung and how weak his voice has become.

                When he gets out he has two new texts on his phone from two different people that say the exact same thing.

                _We still on for tonight?_

Darren puts on a pale pink button up and some khakis and only replies to one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not above begging for comments. I'm really, really not.
> 
> Like what you see? Reblog on tumblr! Or come leave me a message!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter on [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/112911318629/saving-the-world-a-side-job-part-iv)

“I can show you the world,” Darren says, staring deeply into Chris’ eyes and trying not to smile.

                “No,” Chris deadpans, shaking his head immediately. “No. Stop there, Darren.”

                “Shining, shimmering, splendid,” Darren continues, still speaking the words to the song even though his voice takes on a melodious tone.

                “It’s like you want me to hate you,” Chris says, though he can’t hold back a smile. He grabs the papers from the copy machine and turns around, heading back to his desk.

                Darren, who only got out of his seat to annoy Chris, simply follows him back through the office.

                “Tell me, Christopher,” he says seriously, jogging a bit so he can get in front of Chris and stop him in his tracks. “When did you last let your heart decide?”

                Chris shakes his head fondly, and Darren considers it a win.

                He has one more week of freedom. One more week left in his month long vacation. His stab wound was completely healed in less than two weeks. The rest of the month has been a much needed vacation, and while Darren felt guilty at first not going out and patrolling, he’s sort of dreading having to leave work and Chris behind to go back to being a superhero. After this he has to return to training, and he has to put in twice as much work as normal so that he can get his body back into shape. He’s really enjoyed all of this quality time spent with Chris, but he knows that it’s about to be slashed in half, if not more. After all, it took a year in Chris’ presence before Darren even had time to move their camaraderie out of the office.

                Before this injury, when Darren was working two full time jobs, he only ever saw Chris in the office and at the occasional office karaoke night or dinner gathering. Now he’s become accustomed to seeing Chris twice a week and texting him every day.

                He’s not exactly sure how he’s going to stop that. He doesn’t think that he can, to be quite honest. Chris has quickly become one of the few positives in Darren’s life, and while Darren knows that once he goes back to being a superhero his time with Chris will lessen, he still doesn’t think that the text messages will stop. He still doesn’t think that he can put Chris on hold.

                It took an entire _year_ until Darren was able to officially call Chris a friend. He’s not going to give up on this relationship now. Not when it’s just started.

                However, he’s not exactly sure how he’s going to explain to Chris his suddenly busy schedule or why he won’t ever be around. Daryl has scheduled a one week ‘business trip’ for Darren starting next week. Darren will be in ‘San Diego’ meeting with some corporate clients.

                In actuality he’ll be spending the whole week practically living in the gym—the superhero one, not the regular one—and improving his physique and practicing his powers and going over strategy plans.

                Normally Darren looks forward to these weeks with Daryl and his trainers and other retired or semi-retired superheroes. But that’s because Darren normally doesn’t have Chris to hang out with instead. Or Chris to go to movies with. Or Chris to grab food with while mocking the ‘effortlessly’ hipster twenty-somethings wearing Free People clothing.

                So yeah, Darren is going to soak up as much Chris time as he can. Because next week it’s all going to go down the drain.

* * *

 

                Daryl isn’t mad at him. Resigned, yes. But angry? No. Not so much. Which is a _huge_ relief to Darren. He was afraid that he would have to do some major groveling to get Daryl to forgive him for choosing Chris. But Daryl said he sort of expected it and that he doesn’t begrudge Darren for wanting to lead a normal life and act his age. But he did leave Darren with a piece of advice.

                “Be careful,” Daryl said, looking Darren gravely in the eye. It’s vague but it’s meaningful, and Darren takes it to heart. He’s already heard Daryl’s spiel about the stress of having a second life and having to keep your spouse and your family in the dark. So he’s thankful that Daryl doesn’t go into it again.

                After annoying Chris at the copy machine, Darren heads back to his desk to get some work done. He is a little bit behind and he wants to be able to finish on time to eat lunch with Chris. When they go to the break room together, Darren takes a second to collect his thoughts and calm his nerves. He’s pretty sure that Chris will be amenable to his new idea, but still, it’s nerve wracking every time Darren tries to invite Chris out. Mainly because they’re still at the ‘new friends’ stage instead of the ‘monogamous and making out’ stage that Darren wants to be at.

                He hopes he’s not _too_ obvious.

                “So,” he starts, looking at Chris from across the lunch table, “to show you that I’ve been listening—“

                “Always a good thing,” Chris comments, opening up his can of soda.

                “I was thinking that I could take you to The Field Museum this weekend. Brush up on our history. Hang out with some dinosaurs.”

                “I love The Field Museum!” Chris exclaims, smiling brightly with rose colored cheeks.

                “No way,” Darren says sarcastically and Chris laughs.

                “Hey,” Chris says mock accusingly, “there is nothing wrong with my love of history and museums.”

                “Precisely,” Darren replies. “Which is exactly why I have proposed we spend Saturday there.”

                Chris pulls out his iPhone and puts it on the table, tapping it a few times. Darren can see that he’s checking his calendar.

                “And that is a deal I am absolutely willing to take you up on,” Chris says, tipping his soda in Darren’s direction and nodding.

                “Awesome. Saturday around lunch? We can grab food beforehand?” Darren asks, trying not to sound desperate for Chris’ time and company. It’s the last time that Darren will get to hang out with Chris before he starts back with his superhero duties. Sunday is the beginning of May, and he has to report for duty bright and early at six in the morning.

                “Sounds good to me,” Chris smiles, digging into his sandwich.

                Darren grins back. One more day with Chris before his responsibilities pick back up. He plans on making this a day to remember.

* * *

 

                In the grand scheme of things, Darren isn’t actually that good of a superhero. On a scale from masked vigilante to X-Men or Spiderman, Darren is decidedly closer to the former. He has _powers_. They’re just not as singular nor as advanced as comic book superheroes’ tend to be. In general most real life superheroes don’t have comically large powers like Superman. People can’t fly—that’s ridiculous.

                Throughout super-secret society, Darren is actually looked at as being weak. It irked him in the beginning. When he first found out that he was considered more of a joke and a nuisance than an actual threat, Darren’s pride took a significant hit. But with Daryl’s help, Darren was able to spin everything into a positive. He began training and strategizing and practicing, and he realized that if people saw him as less of a threat, then they wouldn’t employ bigger teams or strategies in an effort to defeat him.

                If super villains didn’t think he was all that powerful, then they wouldn’t try so hard when fighting him. More often than not they’d just ignore him and send their less skilled henchmen. So in the end Darren’s reputation as a kid in a face mask without any real powers actually helped him. Even to this day it gives him a greater advantage over villains.

                His reputation in the super community has shifted throughout the years, and most people who have heard of Darren recognize that he can be a legitimate threat. But when they see him—how small and scrawny he is—people tend to laugh and stop taking him seriously. Again, it used to upset Darren. But now he likes it. It gives him a chance to prove himself. It gives him an edge—an advantage.

                It makes it easier for him to come home safely.

               He’s reminded of this when he gets home and sees a message on his top secret cell phone. It’s really not _that_ secretive; he takes it out in public on occasion. It’s just manufactured for superhero usage. It doesn’t contain any top secret information for fear that the phone may get lost, stolen, or end up in the wrong hands. But it has all of his important contacts: other superheroes, doctors, trainers, tech guys, informants. And in the unlikely event that it does get stolen or lost, it self-destructs.

                When dealing with superhero stuff, this is the only form of communication Darren has with the super world. He doesn’t give out his address or his home phone number (yes, he still has a landline—for security purposes). He doesn’t give out an email. Hell, only a small number of people even know his true name and identity. But this phone, this phone keeps him connected to the greater world.

                So when he comes home and sees a message phone from an informant of his, Darren’s curiosity is piqued. Daryl spread the word that Darren would be out of commission for a few weeks, so Darren shouldn’t be receiving any information from anyone. It should all be going to Daryl, who acts as a manager of sorts to Darren’s superhero career.

                “Hi, 0421,” Darren’s greeted with his code name. “Wanted to let you know that Blue Robin 994 was dropped off earlier in the week. If you need anything else let me know.” The line clicks off rather abruptly.

                Darren swallows thickly after hearing that Blue Robin 994 was ‘dropped off’.

His cell phone is usually a secure line, but it’s common practice in the super world when leaving messages of any sort to remain as secretive as possible. They rely on codes.

                0421 is one of Darren’s codes. He uses it with Typical Informants, the terminology for non-super humans who are aware of the super world and choose to step into it and help out. Blue Robin 994 is one of Darren’s closest informants. He’s been working in the super world for close to a decade and has saved Darren’s life on multiple occasions. To hear that he’s died…it knocks the breath out of Darren. He has to sit down at his dining room table and concentrate on his breathing for fear of passing out.

                He hates these moments. The times when his job becomes all too real. The times when it hits him that he, however indirectly it may have been, had a part in the murder of someone else. A _human_ nonetheless; a person who has no attachments to the super world yet chooses to put their life in danger to help the greater good.

                Darren’s not sure who else knows about this, but he knows that it’s important to spread the word and honor BR 994. So he picks up his super cell and dials Daryl’s number.

                “Topman,” he says seriously when Daryl answers on the first ring. “I’ll be at the gym tonight. I think I need to start my training early.”

               

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments, concerns? Leave it in the comment box! 
> 
> This chapter on [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/112911318629/saving-the-world-a-side-job-part-iv)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebloggable on [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/114774388519/saving-the-world-a-side-job-part-v)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely and amazing [lokicorey](http://lokicorey.tumblr.com/) gave me the absolute most amazing gift anyone could ever give me by making me a [trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WuNgqVOWaI) for this story. I am completely and totally in awe of her graciousness and talent, and if any of you want to check it out you really should. It's so beautiful and amazing and I cannot stop watching it. 
> 
> In other news, I'm incredibly sorry that it took so long for me to update. Honestly, the only reason that I did was because I completely forgot about this story. It sounds strange, I know, but normally I remember to write the next chapter after checking my email and seeing notifications about comments/kudos. And last chapter wasn't too popular (le sigh), so I just completely forgot to write more. But rest assured, that won't happen again!

                Darren hasn’t been to The Field Museum since moving to Chicago and playing tourist with his family. It’s not that he has anything against museums, it’s just that they’re expensive and sometimes a bit boring, and there’s only so many times he can go there and read facts about animals and leaves and the Ancient Egyptian time period. It’s not that none of it interests him. It’s that he just doesn’t have the time or the will to go very often. Or ever, really. Especially since he became a superhero. His weekends tend to be booked solid.

                He knew that Chris would _love_ this, and therefore, by proxy, he would, too. What he was not expecting was to enjoy it as much as he is.

                Chris knows a lot. Anytime they pass an exhibit or an ancient artifact that garners Chris’ attention for more than a minute, Chris will spit out some random fact about it that is not written on the placard in front of it. Chris had warned Darren about his propensity to spitting out useless facts when they were out at lunch earlier.

                “Be prepared to be schooled,” he had said. “I don’t hold back my knowledge.”

                Had Darren known how serious Chris was, he would have spent an hour beforehand Googling the Ice Age so he could also come up with some brilliantly enigmatic fact. Instead he spouts off facts about the movie Ice Age, and though it’s not nearly as impressive as what Chris is doing, it does garner many laughs and several shoulder bumps from Chris. And really, what more could he ask for?

                The greatest part about it, though, isn’t the fact that Chris is clearly brilliant and is preening under the excitement of being in one of his favorite museums with a friend. Instead, it’s the fact that they are able to maintain a nearly constant conversation. It’s not boring at all. They don’t get so caught up in the museum and what it has to offer that they lose sight of each other and drift away. And they aren’t so fascinated by the sheer amount of history surrounding them that they only talk about what they see. They talk about _everything_ , and they flow in and out of funny anecdotes and cool historical facts.

                “This is a pretty good lookin’ mummy,” Darren says, pointing at a shriveled up mummy whose wrapping has begun to fall loose. Darren shivers at the thought that there is an actual person under all that dressing.

                “I once read somewhere that in the 1600s people who went to Egypt would steal mummified people and animals to display in their homes,” Chris spouts off from next to Darren.

                Darren shudders and looks at Chris, alarmed. “You’ve _got_ to be fucking with me,” he says seriously.

                “I mean, I read it online, but I haven’t been able to research into it,” he shrugs his shoulders. “So I could be wrong. Not everything you read is true.”

                “I really, _really_ , desperately hope that this is not true,” Darren replies.

                “What, you don’t like the idea of a thousand plus year old mummy hanging out in the corner of your living room?”

                Darren tries to imagine it but isn’t too pleased with the image his head is conjuring up, and he winces instead.

                “No. No, I think that doesn’t sound good at all.”

                “Speak for yourself. I, for one, would love to have my dead spouse’s mummy forever standing guard outside my bedroom.”

                “The thought alone makes me want to wretch,” Darren says for drama’s sake.

                “That doesn’t sound romantic to you?” Chris asks, voice dripping with sarcasm as they walk throughout the exhibit and take in some authentic 6th century BCE jewelry. “You could put your wife’s organs on the mantelpiece.”

                Darren almost chokes on his own saliva.

                “My wife, eh? I suppose your _wife’s_ would also hang on the mantelpiece, right?” Darren asks, sardonic smile in place and a devilish glint in his eyes.

                “Let’s not beat around the bush,” Chris says as he turns to Darren with determination. “We both know I’m gay.”

                “So is this your way of finding out if _I_ am?” Darren asks, small smile tugging at his lip.

                When Chris blushes profusely Darren’s smile grows tenfold. “You dirty dog,” he laughs. “You’re just dying to know if the mummy hanging out in my living room is going to be a male or a female.”

                “Well, I—I—I—, to be f-fair, you said that there won’t be a mummy in your living room,” Chris stammers out.

                Darren grins wickedly and turns around, walking over to a showcase of ancient jars and bowls.

                “Believe me,” he says, turning to look Chris deep in the eyes. And it’s nice to know that his desired effect is taking place and Chris is flushed with embarrassment and staring dumbly back at him.

                _Point one for Darren_.

                “There will _definitely_ be a mummy in my living room,” he replies, adding a wink on the end.

                “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Chris shoots back, his cheeks finally returning to a normal color. “You like watching me squirm.”

                Darren laughs cordially. “I’m just waiting for you to ask the question,” he replies dumbly, as if he hasn’t instigated Chris in the slightest.

                “Fine,” Chris huffs. “Do you, Darren,” he says, staring intently and mockingly at Darren, “like girls?”

                “I love girls,” Darren replies. “Who doesn’t!”

                “If I could strangle you right now I would,” Chris points out making Darren laugh. “Ugh, you’re really gonna make me say it aren’t you?”

                Darren nods his head, smiling widely and enjoying Chris’ flailing. It’s so infrequent that he gets to see Chris act unsure of himself and embarrassed.

                “Do you _only_ date girls?” Chris clarifies, and it’s not the rephrase that Darren was expecting, but he’ll answer it anyway and put Chris out of his misery… _sort of_.

                “It depends what you mean by _only_ ,” Darren replies, and at Chris’ perplexed expression he soldiers on. “Well, there was Sally Forrester in the sixth grade. We danced together at my very first school dance. She was lovely. Then there was Theresa Yeardly—she asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance in the ninth grade. A bit too handsy if you ask me. And she hadn’t quite perfected the tongue to lip ratio in kissing. Oh! And after that is Sherry Fielder. She was a babe. We dated for six months in the tenth grade. But we broke up when I went to Junior Prom with Jessica Antonucci. Nothing happened with her, but a month later I went to a Junior Prom at a different school with Andi Mightus. Andi with an ‘I,’ mind you. Oh! And then there was—“

                “I get the picture!” Chris laughs, holding his hand up in surrender. “You are quite the player.”

                “Well it doesn’t end there,” Darren says, walking Chris over to an empty bench and taking a seat. “Because after Andi with an ‘I’ there was Sarah and then..hmmm…Carly! My senior year. Then I went to college and there was Andy with a ‘Y.’ He was the first person to rim me. And let me tell you, after that religious experience, I haven’t looked back once.”

                Chris’ face has gone completely pasty and he’s slack jawed. It’s not exactly the reaction that Darren was expecting, but he’s not going to freak out yet. Perhaps the rimjob joke was a little too forward and crude, but he couldn’t help it! It just slipped out.

                “A _rimjob_ converted you to homosexuality?” Chris asks incredulously.

                “You have no idea how good that rimjob was,” Darren defends, letting go a breath of relief.

                “Say rimjob one more time,” Chris says.

                “Rimjob,” Darren chuckles, his smile finally breaking loose.

                “I don’t think I’ve ever said that word as frequently as we have right now.”

                “Rimjob rimjob rimjob,” Darren repeats.

                “Now it doesn’t even sound like a word! Oh my god!” Chris laughs, shoving Darren on the shoulder. “You’re a terrible person!”

                “A terrible _homosexual_ , I might add. Just in case you didn’t get it the first time.”

                Chris blushes faintly, and Darren is starting to fall in love with how easily that happens.

                “I think with the number of times you said rimjob I was able to ascertain that much, yes. I’ve yet to hear a straight guy even mutter that word.”

                “Well they have no idea what they’re missing out on. Those poor unfortunate souls—“

                “I swear to god, Darren, if you continue that sentence with the rest of the words to that song, I will walk away right now and never come back,” Chris remarks snidely, though it’s evident with his smile that he’s merely joking.

                “Then I’ll be sure to keep my lips closed,” Darren promises, miming locking his mouth shut and throwing away the key.

                “Good. Now I’ll finally have a few moment of silence.”

                “I’m sorry that I’m not as cunning a conversationalist as I assumed I was. You have my sincerest apologies,” Darren says, playing along.

                “So much for the silence,” Chris replies, ducking his head so he can look at Darren without seeming too forward. Darren doesn’t care, though. He loves the attention. He loves that the attention is coming from _Chris_ , and he turns his body so he can face Chris and stare unabashedly for a few seconds.

“Come on,” Darren says, shaking his head and standing up. “I hear there’s some fascinating facts about dinosaurs here.”

                He sticks his hand out for Chris so he can help him stand up, and he’s surprised by how great the weight of Chris’ hand feels in his own. If it were up to him, he’d hold onto it for the rest of the day. Instead, he squeezes it once and lets it go.

* * *

 

                It’s a pretty great night. The best, actually. They’re so involved in conversation that when they finish making their way through the museum, they realize that they don’t want to leave each other yet.

                Darren has to be awake before the sun comes up the next day, so that he can get to his training session on time. Chris is under the assumption that he’s leaving for a week long business trip, and while he’s loathe to let Darren go, he does ask if Darren wants to come over to his place and order dinner and hang out.

                Darren jumps on the opportunity. He’s never really been inside of Chris’ apartment, and there’s really no reason for him to turn down the chance to spend more time with Chris. Especially since they’re now basically on the same page about liking each other. Or at least, Darren supposed they are. They don’t talk about it, but Darren doesn’t stop himself from openly checking Chris out (in a non pervy way, of course), and when Chris catches him, he looks back or blushes or bumps Darren’s shoulder. Their hands brush a couple of times when they walk, and Darren has to physically separate himself from Chris and put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from latching onto Chris’ hand and interlacing their fingers.

                At Chris’ apartment they order pizza and french fries and sit a little too close on the couch and talk about their favorite plays and musicals.

                “There’s no way you like _Rocky Horror_ as much as I do,” Darren argues, legs crossed pretzel style on the couch, facing Chris.

                “I do. I really do,” Chris replies.

                “I once went to a midnight showing of it dressed as Frank-n-Furter.”

                “I don’t believe you!” Chris laughs, his eyes crinkling up adorably.

                “No, really!” Darren replies. “I wore heels, too! It was atrocious! I could barely walk. My friends had to practically carry me back home and everyone who passed us probably thought I was shitfaced. But I was stone cold sober.”

                “Why didn’t you just take the heels off then?” Chris asks.

                “And walk around Ann Arbor at three in the morning without socks on? No way,” Darren smiles. “Plus, I was Dr. Frank-n-Furter! And no way would good ol’ Frankie walk around dressed to the nines in fishnets, a garter belt, and a corset and _not_ wear stilettos.”

                “Please tell me that there are pictures of this,” Chris says, placing his hand on Darren’s knee.

                “There are. And if you’re lucky enough I’ll even show them to you,” Darren winks, reveling in the warm feeling of Chris’ hand is it relaxes against his own leg.

                Chris laughs loudly, his head rolling back as his chest shakes with amusement.

                “I can’t beat that. I really can’t,” he says when he calms down. “But when I was in high school I was cast as a voice over actor for a tampon commercial because I sounded like a girl.”

                “No way!” Darren says, almost choking on his own spit. “Are you for real?!”

                “Serious as a heart attack,” Chris says, though he’s grinning amiably. “Just another addition to the long list of why I’m so messed up,” he laughs.

                “That’s actually cool. That’s a fun fact! You can break that out during office parties or speed dating,” Darren suggests, his cheeks rosy with happiness.

                “Yeah,” Chris says sarcastically, squeezing Darren’s knee minutely. “The next time I’m at the local gay singles bowling night I’ll be sure to mention that.”

                Darren can’t help but hold back a laugh. He wants to say something else—to continue on with the joke—but then the buzzer rings signaling that the pizza guy is outside and needs to be let up.

                “Let me get that,” Chris says, standing up and taking his hand off of Darren’s leg. He walks to the front door and pushes the buzzer that allows the pizza guy to get through the apartment building’s front door, and then Chris heads over to the table to grab his wallet.

                “No,” Darren says, standing up and grabbing his wallet from his back pocket. “Let me get it.”

                “I couldn’t allow that,” Chris protests.

                “Well good thing you don’t have a choice,” Darren replies, heading to the front door and opening it just as the pizza guy is about to knock.

                “Perfect timing!” Darren smiles, handing the alarmed and confused delivery guy twenty-five dollars and telling him to keep the change. He brings the pizza into the living room and puts it on the table next to the paper plates, napkins, and cups that Chris had previously put out.

                “Now,” Darren says, sitting down on the couch and opening up the pizza box to grab himself a slice. “Where were we?”

                Chris shakes his head warmly and sits down next to Darren.

                “I believe you were about to tell me an embarrassing acting related story to make me feel better about myself,” Chris replies with faux innocence.

                “You mean my Dr. Frank-n-Furter story wasn’t good enough?” Darren jokes, taking a big bite of plain pizza.

                “Not nearly embarrassing enough,” Chris replies.

                “Well, I’m not sure how embarrassing this is, since I helped write this role and it was always meant to be me. But in college I played a penis.”

                Chris actually spits out the water that he was in the middle of drinking, and he spends a few seconds coughing awkwardly until the moment passes.

                “You _what?!_ ” Chris gasps.

                Darren wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I played a penis. I was costumed to look like a penis. For a play called _Me and My Dick_. I was the dick.” He points to himself and smiles proudly, knowing he looks more than a little bit ridiculous.

                Chris opens his mouth a few times to say something, but prematurely closes it every time and shakes his head unbelievably. “I—I—I honestly have nothing to say. I just have…I’m speechless.”

                “I have pictures for that, too,” Darren replies, still smiling devilishly.

                “I don’t even know if I want to see that,” Chris laughs.

                “Well, in case you get bored when I’m away on business…the play _is_ uploaded on YouTube in its entirety…” Darren suggests innocuously.

                “You’ve just made me the happiest man,” Chris says seriously, though his playful smile hasn’t left his face.

                “I thought you said you didn’t want to see it,” Darren goads.

                “Well, that was before. Now that I know I can watch the actual play, I sincerely feel the need to witness it.”

                Darren leans back against the couch and looks openly at Chris, admiration obvious in his gaze.

                “What?” Chris says, suddenly self-conscious.

                “Nothing,” Darren replies. “I’m just having a lot of fun.”

                “Good,” Chris replies. “Me too. We’ll have to get together again when you come back.”

                “Yeah,” Darren says, though he doesn’t know if he believes what he’s saying anymore. “I can’t wait.”

                He sits back up and grabs another slice of pizza and tries to shake off the sudden guilt.

                “I’ll be right back,” he says, standing up. “Just gotta use the loo.”

* * *

 

                Bright and early Sunday morning finds Darren at the gym. It’s four-thirty, the sun won’t rise for a while, and he’s currently on the treadmill completing a fourteen mile run to get his juices flowing.

                He had to call it quits at nine the night before, citing tiredness and his need to still ‘pack.’ Chris willingly let him go, walking him to the door and wishing him a safe flight to San Diego, before quickly and awkwardly leaning forward for a brief—yet wonderful—hug.

                It was pretty amazing. And it left Darren hyped the rest of the night. He barely got any sleep and part of him didn’t want to show up today for training. But he couldn’t help but remember Blue Robin 994 and how he left behind a family and children and friends and a job and a wife and his _life_ just to help Darren. And Darren knows what he has to do. He knows that he has to make BR 994’s death worth it. He’s spent too long out of commission, and going back to the gym for the first time the other day made Darren all too aware of what’s been happening in the world since his absence.

                That entire month he spent recuperating and living normally he skipped all his superhero meetings. He didn’t go to any planning initiatives, he didn’t catch up with any of the retired or semi-retired superheroes that also frequent the training facility. He certainly didn’t have the time to converse with any active superheroes, and it’s not like Villain and Hero Internal and External Affairs is a segment debated on cable news.

                So the other day when he heard the news about BR 994 and ended up at the gym with Daryl, it was the first time in a long time— _too_ long of a time, if you ask Daryl—that Darren got the 411 on what’s happening in not only the country, but in Chicago specifically. And to be quite honest, he’s more than a little bit alarmed. Before now he didn’t really understand the effect he had on the city. Realistically he understood that he was saving people, but he didn’t think that people actually relied on him. Superheroes aren’t in the news. They’re basically the world’s best kept secret. Typical Informants, such as BR 994, make sure of that. There are thousands of humans that know of the existence of superheroes, and they do everything in their power to keep superheroes’ existence a secret.

                But still, it isn’t until this week that Darren realized that people rely on him; human, Typical Informants, even other superheroes. So it’s with a heavy heart that he shows up to the gym that morning. Not out of laziness or disappointment in having to show up. But out of guilt. Because for the first time ever Darren truly understands what Daryl has been trying to tell him all these years:

                You can’t just stop being a superhero, even if you want to. Even if you have a reason to.

               

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rebloggable on [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/114774388519/saving-the-world-a-side-job-part-v)
> 
> Hit up the blank box below and tell me what you thought of the story, the Glee series finale, or how your week is going!

**Author's Note:**

> Reblog it on [Tumblr](http://magsforya.tumblr.com/post/108763250769/saving-the-world-a-side-job)
> 
> Yooooooo. What's that blank box down there for?! D00d, I have no idea. Give it a try, though! Write your emotions in it and click Comment and see what happens. It'll be a fun experiment!


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